


Trash, Trampoline and the Birthday Boy

by sevenswells



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, Cheerleaders, Crossdressing, Fellatio, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8098627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenswells/pseuds/sevenswells
Summary: Akaashi has prepared a surprise for Bokuto's birthday, and asks Kuroo to help with the finishing touches.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Bokuto, my darling. Sorry for this weird fic about your boyfriend and your best friend trying their best to please you but also pleasing themselves in the process (?), their interactions just have so much funny potential (snarksnarksnarksnarkSASSsnarksexualtensionsnark).  
> You'll get better gifts from me, I swear, and I'll draw porn just for you. I love you.
> 
> WARNING: there's a Not Safe For Work illustration at the end of this fic, as a bonus
> 
> Title comes from U2's "Trash, Trampoline and the Party Girl". Kuroo's Trash, Akaashi's Trampoline and Bokuto's the Party Girl.

“...like this?”

“Tighter.”

Kuroo dropped his hands from the knot.

“Look, dude, the point is to be able to free yourself the minute you want out, and also not to bruise.”

“I’ll be fine. I want to _feel it_ , Kuroo-san. Tighter.”

Kuroo shrugged and tightened the bindings on Akaashi’s forearms. Then he finished attaching the rest of the skip rope to a convenient metal ring on the wall that was probably meant for hand towels.

“Thank you,” said Akaashi, testing his restraints by flexing and relaxing his arm muscles. Kuroo’s mouth went a bit dry. It wasn’t that Akaashi was particularly ripped, not like Bokuto anyway (but then again, who was), it was just that the way he moved looked particularly _good_. Also, he remembered in his very teeth how it felt to bite those muscles during climax.

“What else?” Kuroo asked.

“The pom-poms. Put one on each hand.”

“Are they just to complete the costume or do they serve some other purpose?” He paused. “Knowing you, it’s the latter, right?”

Akaashi shot him one of his haughty, “inconvenienced princess” looks and, just like that, Kuroo’s semi went full hard.

Fuck, but how could Akaashi be so _hot_? Kuroo was reaching a new level of respect for Bokuto’s strength. Seriously, how could he stand it? Kuroo was lucky he only got to screw Akaashi from time to time because any more of this on a daily basis and he would fucking implode.

He adjusted himself in his jeans, a gesture that Akaashi’s quick eyes didn’t let pass. Naturally.

“If I drop them, I get punished,” Akaashi replied in a soft voice.

Kuroo snickered.

“Is this something you two do on the regular then?” He asked as he handed the black and yellow pom-poms one by one to Akaashi, dropping their string handle on his outstretched fingers. It was a bit of an awkward hold with the way his arms were twisted and bound above his head, but Akaashi had long nimble fingers after all. Very convenient to hold pom-poms in precarious positions, or to make grown men come solely from prostate stimulation.

“Not with pom-poms necessarily, but yes. We also play on birthdays, hence... And as you guessed with spot-on accuracy, Kuroo-san, the pom-poms do complete the costume. Congratulations on your quick mind, as ever. How do I look?”

Did Kuroo catch just a tiny measure of uncertainty at the end of Akaashi’s scathing tone...?

How...

Adorable.

Although Akaashi needn’t worry so, he already looked delectable enough whenever he was on his knees. The cheerleader outfit sporting the colours and crest of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club and Akaashi's arms bound in skip rope, even in this badly lit janitor’s closet, didn’t spoil the picture at all.

Plus, Kuroo already was a sucker for pleated skirts as it was, but the way this one’s hem rode up Akaashi’s thighs and how the pleats fell between them, teasing at the outline of Akaashi’s crotch, could have him downright drooling and babbling -- were he not on a mission, here.

Now, he knew for a fact that Fukurodani’s cheerleading team was mostly male and they weren’t the kind of club to have American-style cheerleaders, so the outfit was a pure invention. Which meant Akaashi must have had it custom-made.

Kuroo had heard before that the tall guy on Fukurodani’s team, Onaga was his name, was a secret cosplay freak and could accomplish miracles with a needle in hand.

A shame that such a work of beauty would soon be covered in come stains, really, but the same could be said of Akaashi and come stains enhanced his good looks, in Kuroo’s opinion. Bokuto thought so as well. Frequently, and enthusiastically so.

It was a given that Kuroo appreciated what was in front of him, nevertheless, he let his eyes roam Akaashi’s body and the silence drag on a little longer just to fuck with him, then declared:

“The snark only makes you hotter, you know.”

The tiniest sigh of relief escaped Akaashi. It did not escape Kuroo’s attention. So Akaashi really was self-conscious about this, huh. For all his calm facade and nonchalant attitude, which Kuroo knew were just that, facade and attitude, it was kind of surprising to catch Akaashi at _caring_ , even a little bit.

 _Dangerous territory_ , Kuroo admonished himself. _Bad line of thinking_.

He was only Bokuto and Akaashi’s fuck buddy. What did they say again, in that book about polyamory that Akaashi had lent him ? Something about primaries -- Bokuto was Akaashi’s “primary”, that was it. And Kuroo wasn’t interested in more complicated than it already was, so he should be a lot more prudent not to care about Akaashi’s caring. Or at least... he shouldn’t let it show.

“Right,” he said, starting to stand up. “That’s it for the set-up then, if you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going...”

“Wait, Kuroo-san. There is more. I need you to prepare me. So when he arrives, he’ll find me, um. Ready.”

“Prepare you? You mean...”

“I mean I want you to fellate me just enough so Bokuto finds me desperate with my dick out, erect and leaking. He’ll like that.”

Akaashi had always been blunt but the way he just blurted out dirty words like reading out a shopping list was... Kuroo wasn’t easily shocked, but damn if that bastard didn’t make him red in the face.

There was another matter to address, though.

“I'm sure he will, but would he be alright with me...”

“I’m not asking him, I’m asking you. And I can’t very well do it myself.”

Akaashi must have mistaken Kuroo’s silence for reluctance instead of a moment of deliberation because he quickly added:

“I’ll let you fuck my face, and I’ll swallow your load afterwards.”

He paused for effect, then clarified:

“All of it.”

Kuroo gulped in sympathy, and his eyes fell on Akaashi’s delicate lips by reflex.

“Today is all about the birthday boy, though. Some other time,” Akaashi amended.

“With Bokuto present?”

“Of course.”

“Deal.”

“Much obliged. Hurry up, he’ll be here soon.”

“Wait, let me check the door again. Just in case.”

Akaashi looking so smart and responsible had its advantages, as he often ended up in possession of an impressive set of keys opening and closing all sorts of interesting and private places, including this janitor’s closet. Kuroo tested the handle – still closed. He’d leave it open for Bokuto when he left, and then be on the lookout outside the gymnasium just in case anyone else came along and he had to warn the lovebirds to wrap it up in there. For the time being, they were good to go.

He went back to Akaashi and dropped to his knees. With one hand he lowered the elastic band of the cheerleader skirt and fished Akaashi’s dick out from his underwear with the other. Lacy black G-string, he noted as he gently stroked the limp shaft to half-hardness. Classy.

He spat on Akaashi’s dick, admittedly for lubrication, but more importantly to see the repulsed-but-kind-of-turned-on face Akaashi pulled at that.

In a few seconds Kuroo achieved something what could more or less be called a hard-on in hand. Without so much as a warning, he dived, took it whole in his mouth and gave it a few sucks, which made Akaashi cry out, then pant, animal-like. He reduced the suction a bit and mainly worked his tongue against the underside, slithering it repeatedly all the way up to the head. Once he'd spread his saliva everywhere, he opened his mouth a little more and blew hot breaths around it.

He’d put his hands on Akaashi’s thighs for balance: he could feel tremors running through them, which got worse when Kuroo’s tongue managed to get under Akaashi’s foreskin and around his glans, then up again, wriggling it a few times at the opening of the urethra. He started tasting salt and the slight bitterness of pre-come there, so he pursed his mouth on top of it and sucked, _slurped_ , really, with filthy sounds that were no doubt embarrassing Akaashi.

“Alright, that’s enough, I think, thank you Kuroo-san you may stop...” He heard Akaashi grind out over the noisy lapping-up of every single drop of fluid pearling at the tip of his cock.

If Kuroo could just suck a few more times, though, just for the feel of it, and trace out those interesting veins with his tongue... If he could just kiss Akaashi’s dick a few more times, then put it in his mouth again and bob his head faster and faster and tighten his lips around it some more...

“ _Enough, Kuroo_.”

The use of his name without the usual honorific in Akaashi’s mouth was as effective as a swift cuff to the top of his head. Bad Kuroo.

He popped his mouth off of Akaashi’s delicious cock and licked his lips with an expression that he hoped was contrite.

“Sorry. Got a bit carried away. I love the taste of your come a little too much and I ended up wanting it all for myself.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Says the guy who promised to, and I quote, swallow all of my load after I fuck his mouth.”

“Never said I liked it. In fact I rather don't.”

“Makes it all the more hotter. You’re killing me, little owl.”

“Why are you like this?” Akaashi sighed. He still looked like some indignant royalty even with his red, hard, wet (thanks to Kuroo) dick hanging out of his cheerleader skirt. Amazing.

“Because riling _you_ in particular gives me intense sexual pleasure. Would that be all, my liege?”

Somewhat amused, Akaashi played along and switched to an even higher degree of keigo, which was almost impossible considering his already eerily polite way of speaking, and made him almost impossibly sexier.

“Not quite yet. Would you be so kind as to search the pockets of my trousers over there and bring back the items you will find to me, if you please?”

Honestly, Kuroo was going to end up persuaded he’d turned into a random peasant being condescended to in a medieval alternate universe. This was some kind of _Fushigi Yuugi_ bullshit, for real. He got up to his feet anyway and went to the regular student uniform that Akaashi had thrown into a corner when he'd changed.

Yeah, Akaashi was an honours student and he could maintain a good front with that sophisticated air he gave off, so you’d presume he would at least _think_ about folding his clothes neatly on the occasion he decided to surprise his boyfriend for his birthday and dress up as a horny cheerleader all tied up in a janitor’s closet, but that total slob simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

When they’d agreed that the three of them having sex could become a thing, it had been generally accepted that zero (0) shenanigans would occur in Akaashi’s bedroom, not because of his parents, but because Akaashi’s bedroom was a fucking pigsty. Kuroo might be “disgusting” as Akaashi called him, but he actually was a neater freak than Akaashi. Those rumpled clothes in a careless pile were close to provoking nervous ticks in him.

He daintily picked up Akaashi’s trousers with a thumb and forefinger, rifled through its pockets with his other hand and brought back two objects. He put them in his own jeans pocket and, unable to resist, he folded the trousers, then picked up Akaashi’s shirt, jacket and tie from the ground and started folding them as well.

“You’ve sure put a lot of thought and preparation into this,” Kuroo called to Akaashi as he straightened his shoes, soles on the floor and not upside down, all parallel, and pushed inside one of them the pair of socks he’d managed to find and roll up together. There. He could finally take a good look at the objects in his pocket. “I don’t even know what these are for. A lipstick and a ribbon...?”

“The lipstick is for writing 'happy birthday' on my chest. The ribbon is for my dick. You better make it pretty and _stop fucking laughing, asshole_.”

Kuroo was having trouble breathing through his endless cackle.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed, “I’m sorry, I just fucking love this final touch oh my god you know him so well he’s gonna go fucking _nuts_ holy shit... Just... Just picturing his fucking face when...”

He cracked up again. Akaashi had no choice but to let it happen, while looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” Kuroo said, wiping at his tears and trying to catch his breath. “It’s just so _him_ and so _not you_... You guys are cute as hell.”

“Glad you think so.”

Crouched in a zoku pose, Kuroo looped the ribbon round and round Akaashi’s stiff cock and tied it with a neat little bow at the end, right over the frenulum.

“Are you going to be able to maintain your erection until Bokuto arrives, by the way?”

“It really shouldn’t be too long until he’s here, but it should help that I’ve also been wearing an anal plug for most of the day. If I start flagging I can tense up my muscles and make it move inside a bit...”

With a concentrated, almost pained frown, he gave Kuroo a demonstration. A few moments later, his cock twitched, and the bow turned a little darker from soaking up in fluid.

Just when Kuroo thought Akaashi couldn’t be any naughtier, he went and confessed he’d had a butt plug in him all day. Lucky Bokuto, he could sheathe his cock up Akaashi almost as soon as he walked in. Which he might want to do the minute he saw Akaashi and the scene he’d created -- with Kuroo’s help. Kuroo had a tender, private little smile for his best friend. He’s gonna be so thrilled, that dumbo. He deserved it.

“Okay, now the lipstick. I’m gonna ask you to put this,” Kuroo hooked his fingers under the hem of the cheerleader crop top, “in your mouth, so I have more space to write. I can’t be arsed to trace the kanji so it’ll be all hiragana, I hope you’re fine with that.”

He didn’t leave Akaashi time to answer and stuffed the cotton fabric inside his mouth, indeed revealing a wide expanse of his well-toned chest to write on.

After tracing the final kana, he quickly prevented Akaashi from opening his mouth and dropping his makeshift gag.

“Hey, he needs to be able to read the whole message when he comes in, otherwise what’s the point of my hard work? Don’t spoil it, man. Furthermore,” Kuroo brought his face closer to Akaashi’s, to the point that he was almost talking against his lips but only his breath touched them, “you’ll need to be quiet, won’t you, Akaashi? If you ever drop that gag in your mouth,” his tone went low and dark, “I’ll be the one who gives you a punishment.”

Akaashi’s eyes grew large, but he gave a sharp, obedient nod, and kept the fabric between his lips.

Kuroo rocked back on his heels and got up, unfolding the whole length of his body into a deeply satisfied stretch, groaning a little, then he turned and unlocked the door. Just before stepping out of the room, he looked back at his work, a few steps removed from it, like a true artist would.

The entire picture was a sight to behold indeed. Akaashi looked decadent and wrecked and just as desperate as planned, and then some.

Kuroo felt no envy towards Bokuto at that point, only the satisfaction of a job well done. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s boyfriend’s ass on thy neighbour’s birthday, etc.

Okay, maybe a little bit of envy.

He was quite moved, however, to see Akaashi bow his head to him as a thank you.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, man,” Kuroo said. “After all...”

He went through the door, leaving it half-open, and finished, “I’m always this nice.”

“Hey hey, Kuroo, who are you talking to?”

There he was. Kuroo’s bulky, loud, excitable best friend and occasional lover, Birthday Boy Bokuto himself, had appeared out of nowhere and was all up in his face.

“Well, Akaashi’s in there...” Kuroo began, after he’d recovered from the small heart attack.

“Yeah, right, he wanted to see me,” Bokuto interrupted.

Bokuto looked nervous, but his eyes were shining like fucking Christmas lights and his whole face was lit up. Happy boy. Lucky boy. He went on, giddiness incarnate:

“Tell me, is it good? Akaashi’s surprise?”

Kuroo gave a knowing smirk, a huge Cheshire cat smile that he knew was splitting his face in two.

“Oh, yes. Go see for yourself. Oh, and, Bokuto?” He called, stopping Bokuto right before he could throw open the door and pounce on Akaashi as soon as he saw exactly _how_ his perfect thoughtful _beautiful_ boyfriend was waiting for him.

“Happy birthday, bro.”


End file.
